Three days.
We had been dragging the cart around for three days and I was beginning to feel like my hooves were going to gain minds of their own and rebel against the rest of my body.
Cross Wings had assured me that we would arrive at the rest stop – that he only now told me was run by a friend of his – by about mid-afternoon, and at this point, the idea of an actual bed to sleep on was the only thing keeping me going.
We had decided that a break was necessary after walking for almost the whole morning and I had been sitting next to the back of the wagon, fiddling with my pip-buck for the past few minutes trying to figure out exactly where we were. The green display showed a map with several markers on it showing the locations of various places across the wasteland. The spot where the icon that represented my current location was somewhat devoid of any others, partly because I had never really been to this part of the country before, but because there was nothing here.
Sure, we had come across a few clusters of shacks that were inhabited, but nowhere that we could spend a night or sell anything. Most of the last three days had just been us walking and not a lot else. It was getting tedious, even for me. What few conversations we did have all died fairly quickly when someone inevitably said the wrong thing, whether it be Cross Wings making a dumb joke, me saying something a bit too bluntly or one of the mares accidentally calling me Nightkin.
Cross Wings had said something about stretching before flying off, and Blue and Caramel were sat on the other side of the wagon talking about what they were going to do when we got to Nova.
I continued looking through all the different features on the pip-buck and somehow finding myself on the radio tuning screen. I was getting a signal from the Tenpony Tower broadcasting system, which meant that DJ pon3 as on the air.
It had been three days, so if he hadn't heard about the shootout by now he probably wasn't going to hear about it at all.
I took a deep breath before selecting it. There was some kind of love song playing that I didn’t bother to actually listen to, which ended fairly quickly.
“And that was Sweetie Bell, singing about finding that special somepony.”
The smooth, deep voice of DJ Pon3 emitted from the pip-buck. The audio was crackly and not exactly high quality, but it really didn’t need to be.
“Now then, I think that it’s time for some news.”
‘Here we go.’
“It seems like that gaggle of freaky mutant alicorns that were hiding out just north of Dodge Junction has finally been cleared out by those brawny ponies in power armour, the Steel Ranger. Whilst many people may have some serious bones to pick with these guys, I think that we can all agree that of these two, they’re the lesser evil.”
I suppose that this was good news. The Steel Rangers may have been dicks, but that was only if you provoked them… or had something they wanted. The alicorns, however, would hunt ponies down and either kill them (if they’re lucky) or drag them away to do Celestia knows what to them, so, as far as I cared, they could be killed without some much as a second glance.
‘Well then, go team Steel Ranger, I guess.’
“It also seems like the Rangers have agreed to a ceasefire with the, ahem, ‘mercenary’ gang known as The Band of Sin. Don’t really know why, but let’s hope this lasts. The last thing we need is more boneheads with too many big toys fighting whilst everyone else is just trying to get on with their day.”
This was concerning.
I never really had much of a history with the Steel Rangers, save for a few encounters with individuals that weren’t of any major significance to either of us. The Sin, however, I did know quite a lot about, the most daunting fact of which being that most of them really didn’t like me.
A ceasefire between the two meant that they were in mutual agreement about something, possibly an indicator that there was some kind of alliance in the works. I grimaced at the thought of what those two might be working towards in unison.
“And lastly for now, ho hoo, is this one a doozy. Fillies and gentlecolts, let me tell you ‘bout the latest escapades of Mr gloomy hooves himself, the Nightkin.”
My eye twitched.
‘Did he just call me ‘gloomy hooves’? Pray I never go to Tenpony Tower, you twat.’
“According to reports, a rather large convoy of slavers were called over to make a trade out by Rockville in the western areas of the wastes, something to do with needing miners. Well, it turns out that was a bunch of hooey and was actually a trap set up by you know who.
“Bad news is that the boss kinda-sorta guessed that something was up and decided to bring in some extra help from a nearby group of griffon mercenaries. Yeah, that plan didn’t really work out too well for them, since the Nightkin apparently just appeared out of thin air and somehow managed to take out all of them. Seems like Celestia’s picking favourites.”
That wasn’t exactly a good way of phrasing it. It sounded like I had done it all myself and without hindrance, when in actuality neither were true. It made me seem a lot more dangerous than I actually was, which meant that smarter enemies would be better prepared for me and dumber ones would come looking for me.
“Don’t you worry your little heads though, ‘cause it sounds like both he and all the slaves got out just fine. So big thanks to the Nightkin and a good luck to the former slaves with that whole new settlement thing they’re trying to get going. Up next we got Sapphire Shores with-”
I shut the radio off. Didn’t really want to listen to any more sappy pop music from two hundred years ago.
“Aww, put it back on, I like her.” I looked up to see Caramel with the kind of big, sad eyes that only a small child can pull off.
Behind her stood Blue Lagoon who was attempting to stifle a giggle. I glanced back and forth between the two before sighing and turning it back on. The song was bouncy and upbeat, the first verse just started.
The filly’s face lit up as I levitated the pip-buck over to her waiting forehooves. She let out a small squeal before darting off around the wagon to listen on her own.
Blue’s gaze followed her until she was out of sight. The warm on smile her face failed to hide the glint of worry in her eye.
“She hasn’t taken anything since the Talons building, right?” Her smile disappeared almost instantly. She nodded once without turning to face me.
“It’s been four days, so this is the point where her withdrawal should be at its worst.” My eyes narrowed. “And yet, she seems to be far more perky and energetic than I’ve seen her be. Why do you think that is?” Her eyes went wide and her head snapped upright to look at me.
“We did find quite a few chems at the Talons building.” Her body was stiff, by her eyes looked as if they were trying to set me on fire.
“She wouldn’t!” She spoke quietly, but it was a sharp tone that showed her anger.
“She promised me before we left, she-”
“She’s a drug addicted child who likely doesn’t know how to control herself.” Her glare faltered.
“She probably waits for us to all fall asleep so she can take them from the wagon and hide them in her mane or something, then take them in small doses throughout the day when no-one’s looking.”
I tried to remain completely emotionless as I spoke, not wanting to let my own frustration show. Blue lower lip began to quiver and her eyes looked like they were beginning to moisten, but she shook her head and looked me right in the eyes with a determined face.
“So, what do we do about it?” Her sudden acceptance of my theory was slightly jarring, but ultimately a good thing.
“There’s a doctor in Nova that can help her, Dr Pulse. She’s got a form of treatment that can purge the drugs out of her system. It’s a bit expensive, but,” I glanced at the cargo. “I think that we already have that covered.”
“Okay then, but what do we do until we can get her the treatment?” I placed to hoof on my chin and tried to think of something.
“If I’m right and she’s only been taking them in small amounts, completely cutting her off shouldn’t have anywhere near the kind of reaction that she would be having if she had stuck to her word, so I think that it’s safe for you to just take it away from her. To be honest, her sneaking those drugs probably made it easier, both on her and us.” She seemed to be processing what I had said when a thought dawned on her.
“‘Safe for me to take them?’ You’re not going to help?” She almost looked hurt.
“She’s known me for four days, and I haven’t exactly been overly pleasant to her. I don’t really know what your relationship is with her, but she’s more likely to take the message to heart if it’s you who says it.” She paused for a brief moment before giving a hesitant nod and following the sound of music to where Caramel was sat.
I decided that I too needed to stretch and stood up. There was a rather tall cluster of large rocks some ways away from the wagon that looked like a pretty go vantage point for surveying the area.
I trotted over and looked it up and down. It was about five or so meters tall and was made up of one boulder held upright by several other rocks that were wedged underneath it. The main boulder itself was incredibly chipped and jagged of every surface, likely due to it being good cover during combat.
I could easily just levitate myself up there, but - seeing as how the entire point of this to exercise my body - decided against it. I hopped up onto one of the rocks at the bottom and pressed a hoof against the boulder. It didn’t budge. I pressed harder. Still nothing.
I let out a deep breath and reached up to grip a chink in the stone. I then reached up a second hoof and grabbed another crack slightly above it and used it as leverage to hoist my entire body upwards. By this point, I was completely off the ground and clinging to the rather sharp rock.
One hoof after another, I made my way up the side, using every inconsistency in the rock face to clamber my way up. I only had to climb for less than half a minute before I made it to the top. It was broad and flat enough for me to be able to sit on (not very comfortable though).
I wasn’t too far off the ground, but it all seemed different from up here; the breeze was slightly stronger and almost tasted clean compared to what I normally breathed, I could gaze out much further and see things from above (if they were close enough).
The biggest difference, however, was that whenever I was up high – even by just a few meter – I could feel the same way I did back when I first discovered climbing back at Winsome Falls.
I felt free. Alive, even.
I didn’t get to feel like that very often anymore. Too many distractions.
I was broken out of my trance by the sound of wings flapping behind me. I magically drew my knife and held it up for him to see.
“If you shout ‘boo’, I’m going to stab you in the eye!” The flapping became erratic for a second before returning to normal.
“Pfft. You’re no fun.” Cross Wings grumbled as he hovered over to my right side. I sheathed the blade, not bothering to turn to him. There was a pregnant pause as we both looked out over the desolate land, dotted with the occasional dead trees, rocks similar to the one I was sat upon and skeletons of whatever creators.
It all seemed so drained; like nothing ever had the chance to properly live here. Like nothing had ever even tried.
“So, err, you gonna explain that?” He pointed toward the wagon, where the two mares were arguing, both seeming to be on the verge of tears.
I sighed loudly. “I’ve already explained this once, just take a guess.”
He thought for a moment and frowned. “Drug talk?”
“Drug talk.” He grimaced and shook his head.
“Let’s just leave them to it, shall we?”
“Why do you think I’m up here?” He rolled his eyes and looked back out over the wasteland in the direction he had been leading us in.
“We’re almost at Campers place, I could see it a few miles off from here.” I nodded.
“And did you see anything else?” He snorted.
“Of course that would be your first question. No, didn’t see any manticores or hellhounds, if that’s what you’re asking. Just a few bloatsprites and a couple of rather unfriendly looking dogs.”
I let out a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment.
The road ahead was quiet. The road behind us had been quiet. This entire road was bloody dull.
I wasn’t exactly hoping for a pack of feral ghouls or raiders to come barrelling over the next hill, but I wanted something to happen.
“Don’t even think about it.” I opened my eyes and looked over at Cross Wings with an eyebrow raised.
“What?” He snorted.
“I get that you’re bored, but I ain’t dragging all that crap back to Nova on my own. So - until we get through those gates - you’re not allowed to go and get yourself killed.” He said, wagging a claw at me.
I glowered slightly at him but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t in the mood argue.
From what I could see, it looked as if the two mares had just about ended their conversation (without either side breaking down) and were ready to move on.
I took in the scenery one last time before scooting over to the edge and beginning my descent.
The last hour and a half had been spent walking and nothing else. When Cross Wings said he could see the place after fly for a little while he had failed to mention how far he had flown or how far away it was when he saw it.
But even if he hadn’t been overly punctual about it, he had still gotten us here.
We stood in front of a relatively small, one-story building that didn’t look like it had more than three or four rooms in it with a wooden sign by the door that had ‘Camper’s Trading Post’ written on it in big red letters. I blinked a few time at it.
“You said this was a rest stop?” I questioned, turning to the griffon. He did his best to appear coy as he undid the strap from the wagon.
“It can be both.” He remarked before slipping away and heading for the front door.
“Hey, HEY!” I shouted as I lurched forward to catch him. Unfortunately, I hadn’t yet removed my own straps, which coursed me to lose my balance after the sudden movement.
“WAH!” I cried as I fell muzzle first into a patch of damp dirt. There was an almost comedic ‘smack’ as I met the ground, followed by a brief moment of nothing before the laughter started.
Obviously, Cross Wings was the loudest, but I could still hear the other two giggling and snickering behind me. For ten straight second, I lay there in the dirt, not moving or speaking. I just remained completely stationary, going so far as to stop breathing altogether.
The laughter died and was replaced with an eerie silence.
“Err, Vanish?” Cross Wings’ usual jaunty voice had a hint of concern to it. I could hear his steps towards me, stopping just in front of my body.
“Is he okay?” Blue asked. I still didn’t move.
A second later I felt a claw lightly poke me on the back of my head, which I used as a signal.
My eyes snapped open as my head jutted upwards to meet the griffons, magically grabbing his own to stop him escaping. My piercing glare digging into his surprised eyes from less than a centimetre away.
“Don’t get smart with me, jackass,” I growled viciously.
I stared him down for another few seconds, then released my grip on him and focused it on the stapes around my flank. He quickly pulled away with a cautious look on his face.
I wrenched on the straps with more aggression than was probably necessary. By the time I was free of them Cross Wings had shaken off his bewilderment and had his usual grin was back on his beak.
“Okay, okay, whatever. Let’s just go meet with Camper.” He almost chuckled before turning to head to the front door.
It surprised me a bit that he was so quick to forget (or at least ignore) what had just happened.
He knocked twice before going straight in. I glance back at the two mares behind me by the wagon. Neither of them said a thing, only followed after him, trying not to meet my eye.
I took a deep breath and finally allowed myself to react to the amount of pain that my face was in.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” I growled as I touched a hoof to my muzzle to massage the pain away. When I looked at my hoof I noticed that there was, in fact, dirt on it (or at least more). I let out a deep breath and followed the others inside.
I hadn’t really been expecting much of the small building. Hell, it didn’t look like it was much more than a couple of brick shacks pushed together, but I was pleasantly surprised by just how roomy the place was.
In the front room, where we entered, there were three rows of shelves running across the length of the floor, and counters lining the walls, all holding various traveling supplies, types of ammunition, weapons, and armour.
There was a bit more than what we had in the wagon and most of it looked to be of a higher quality, meaning that this ‘Camper’ pony probably wasn’t going to be too keen on buying anything from us.
On the left side of the room was another door that opened as we made our way in. A dark brown earth pony with a thick, messy mane and beard, both grey as a result of age stepped out. On his flank was the image of a simple green tent shaped like a triangular prism.
“Gavin.” He exclaimed as he trotted over to Cross Wings.
“Camper, you still runnin’ this little crap-shack?” The griffon joked
“Good to see that mouth of yours still hasn’t gotten you killed.” The older stallion chuckled as he raised a hoof which was met with Cross Wings’ clenched fist.
“How’s Marcella and the kids doing?” My companion seemed to flinch slightly at this question. He quickly waved it off and changed the subject.
“Eh, we’ll talk about them later. Introductions first.” He gestured toward me.
“This is Vanish Strike, a kinda-sorta-not-really old friend.” I didn’t know if the ‘kinda-sorta-not-really’ was referring to the ‘old’ or the ‘friend’ in that statement, but I didn’t care enough to find out.
“Nice to meet you, lad. Name’s Wild Camper, but everypony just calls me Camper.” His voice was smooth and calm, almost even fatherly. He extended a hoof as a show of welcoming, which I took in my own and shook briefly.
“Same to you,” I said softly, not wanting to give this guy the impression that I would rob him the second his back was turned. I then remembered that my face was probably covered in dirt and had to suppress a grunt.
“You got a bathroom here?”
I could hear Cross Wings introducing our host to Blue and Caramel through the door, but the voices were so muffled that I could only make out names.
The bathroom was small, containing a somehow intact stall and a sink with a washcloth hanging on it and a dirty cracked sheet of reflective glass screwed to the wall above it.
I trotted over to them and twisted the left tap with my magic. There was a rather worrying rumbling noise coming from the pipes underneath the sink, but after a few seconds, the water began to pour out. Having confirmed that it worked, I turned it off and removed my coat.
I examined myself in the mirror and frowned. My face and purple and blue mane were covered with a considerable amount of dirt. Most of my dark bluish grey body had been protected by the tattered brown coat that was now on the floor, but that didn’t mean it was clean.
Patches of fur that had gone rigid from dried sweat, and there was a large splotch of dried blood surrounding a slightly pink spot of sink on my left side. I had almost forgotten about the nail bat.
The blood covered a chunk of my ribcage but didn’t reach down to hide my cutie mark; an imprint of the crosshairs of a rifle scope, shrouded in grey mist. I glanced at it once, then chose to distract myself by checking the coat for a similar stain.
Sure enough, there was an almost identical splotch on the left side around a small hole. I removed all the items from the pockets and filled the basin with slightly murky water.
‘Well, it’s not like I’m going to drink it.’
I dipped the bloody area of the fabric into the water and scrubbed at it with the cloth. Once all the blood was of the coat and in the water instead, I unplugged the drain and refilled the sink, this time for myself.
After about ten minutes I was as clean as I cared to be and shook my body to flick off any excess moister, then returned my gaze to my only piece of apparel (besides the armour that I had left in the wagon). The hole was small, but if I just left it there it would undoubtedly grow.
I levitated it up to my eye and focused my magic on it. The tiny fibres began to twitch and move closer together. Whenever two of them met they would entangle and sort of bond together. It was a slow and delicate process that took a full minute to complete, leaving the fabric completely intact.
It was a simple clothing repair spell that I had learned a few years back when I had grown tired of paying other ponies to do it for me.
I replaced all my stuff back into my pockets and put the brown duster back on, then strolled out of the door to join the others.
“Nice try, Gavin, but I know you too well to believe that this is all just salvage.” The smooth voice Wild Camper could be heard through the open front door as I mindlessly looked over the goods he had displayed.
“Would you believe scavenged from an ambushed slaver caravan?”
“…”
“Would you believe that Vanish did it?”
Camper chuckled. “That kid? Seriously?”
I sighed before calling out “Seriously” in a monotone. The conversation continued, but my interest died when I laid my eyes upon a thick yellow book with the words ‘the big book of advanced unicorn spells’ printed on the cover.
I picked up the textbook and gave a quick flip through. It seemed to be in good condition and I didn’t spot any missing pages. I turned to the contents page and scanned trough.
‘Transfiguration, teleportation, shields, transparency, illusions…’
“Hey, Camper, how much for the big yellow spellbook?” I shouted without taking my eyes off the page. The approaching hoof steps told me he was coming in.
“That old thing? Err, let’s say… fifty caps.”
“Thirty-five.”
“Forty.”
“Deal.”
He let out a triumphant laugh as I bought a pouch out from my coat. I counted out the caps and left them on the table in place of the book.
“Cross Wings.” His head appeared in the doorway. “Put this in my bag, would you. Front right corner of the wagon.” The book was sent flying towards his awaiting claw. He caught it perfectly and clicked his tongue before disappearing again.
Another chuckle drew my attention back to Camper.
“What?”
“It’s just that… well, you two have known each other for a few years, right?” I didn’t actually recall either of us telling him that, so I just gave a small nod.
“Then why do you still call him ‘Cross Wings’?”
It was true that the griffon outside did prefer to be called by his actual name, Gavin, by his friends and people he knew, but would always introduce himself to strangers as Cross Wings, a nickname he had earned in his early years (Celestia knows why). He hadn’t told me his real name until I had known him for almost a year, and even then it was only after I had saved his life for the second time.
I chewed on my cheek for a moment and came up with a simple answer.
“Habit, I suppose.” This response seemed to satisfy his curiosity.
“Alright then. If you need anything else just shout.” He mused as he trotted towards the door. Halfway there he stopped and turned his head back.
“Actually… you interested in making a few caps yourself? I’ve got a problem that you could help with.” My eyes narrowed. Normally when ponies hired me to help with their problems it involved murder, theft or extortion.
“About twenty minutes down the road to Nova there’s a group of giant ants that have made themselves a little burrow. Not very big ones, mind you, but they’re fast, there’s at least a half-dozen of the nasty buggers and the terrain is kind of rocky and jagged, so they can move around easily. You can probably guess how that affects the traffic and business around here.” I stared at him for a moment.
“…Twenty minutes down the road, not very big, at least six of them, rocky terrain, right?” He was rather taken aback by this but nodded all the same. I walked past him and headed out the door.
“W-wait, what about the price?”
“I’m going down that road tomorrow morning, so I might as well deal with them now,” I called back as I plucked my rifle from the wagon and two frag grenades from my bag and cantered off down the tattered old road.
Fifteen minutes later I lying atop a steep mound with a scope to my eye counting out how many giant ants there were; eight, four workers, three soldiers and one worrier, all huddled together in a small clearing between all the large rocks and other mounds about eighty-five meters away from my current vantage point.
The workers were barely the size of dogs and could easily just be stamped on. The soldiers weren’t much different, bigger but not by a lot, so likely not terribly stronger.
That worrier, however, gave me cause for concern. It was almost as big as me and pinchers the size of a griffons claws. I did not want to let that thing get close to me.
They were all crowded together (couldn’t tell why) meaning that I could probably take care of most of them with a grenade, but I wouldn’t be able to properly hit the mark when I was this far away. I needed to get closer to them.
‘Or get them closer to me.’ A devilish grin spread across my face. A loud bang and one of them dying would probably be enough to convince them to attack me.
These things weren’t very smart so they would likely just charge at me in a group without a second thought. When they got close enough I could just drop a grenade at the foot of the hill and jump off the other side.
I bought a grenade out from my coat and focused my attention back on the scope, training the crosshairs on the worrier’s head.
‘Three, two, on-‘
In almost perfect unison, all their heads shot and pointed in the direction to the right of the group.
They had heard something.
Literally two seconds later an orange pony in tattered rags wielding an assault rifle between his teeth leaped out from behind particularly large rock about thirty meters away from them and began firing at the group.
The worrier was the first to react and attempted to charge at their assailant, but was halted by three round to the face. Two of the workers and one soldier were also killed in the opening attack.
The four that were left all charged, but were quickly mowed down by the automatic weapon.
When he was sure that none of them were going to get back up, he walked forward, stepping over the smaller ants as he made his way to the large worrier. He dropped the rifle and from his ragged clothing produced a small blade of so kind (could have just been a sharp scrap of metal for all I knew).
I could only stare as he carved into the insect’s body and devoured whatever meat he pulled out.
From my current position I was facing his left side at a distance of almost a hundred meters, and since he was so occupied with his meal it was unlikely that he would spot me without looking straight at me, so, as long as I stayed still, I was safe.
I could get a fairly good look at the stallion through the scope. What I saw confused me. He was hungry - starving even - but not skinny or frail. He actually looked rather strong. He was tired and dirty, but there was no blood or signs of battle on him.
This guy was most likely running away from somepony.
If he had been running from some kind of immediate danger (like a monster or something) then he wouldn’t have stopped to eat. If he were a slave that had escaped his owner then he probably wouldn’t have had any idea how to use an assault rifle as well as he just did. No, he looked like more of a fighter than a servant.
My best guess was that he had been taken as a prisoner after some sort of conflict (probably an armed one) and had escaped and ran far enough away that he had the confidense to stop for food.
‘If he is a soldier, then who did he fight for? And who had captured him?’
He was an earth pony so I could instantly rule out the Enclave, the Talons and the Alicorns (obviously), so that left the Steel Rangers, the Band of Sin or some other group I didn’t know about.
I would be able to either confirm or disprove him being a member of Sin if he wasn’t wearing those rags. If I could see his full body I would see if he did or did not have one of their initiation brands.
‘I could just sneak away and take credit for this. No, if this guy’s an enemy I’ve got to deal with him now. I can’t risk Sin or someone else who hate me coming after us right now. I’ve got to find out who he-‘
Before my thought had even finished he reached up a hoof and tugged at his loose clothing so that the large neck hole revealed part of his chest. Along with the top half of a pink circler marking that looked to have been branded into his flesh.
BANG
He didn’t have time to react to the sound of the shot before the bullet passed through the one side and out the other.
He slumped down, blood spraying out of both holes and hit the ground with a meaty thud that I could hear from all the way over here.
That marking on his chest was the only incentive I needed to pull the trigger. I didn’t know which mark it was, but I didn’t need to. It proved to me that he was a member of the Band of Sin.
I slung the rifle over my shoulder, jumped off the mound and cantered over to the body.
I lifted the shirt over his head to expect the brand beneath his neck and grunted at what I saw.
A perfect circle about six centimetres in diameter with another circle on the bottom of the inside of it, this ones diameter only two centimetres.
This was the symbol for the branch of Sin known as Sloth. I had only ever had a couple of run-ins with this particular bunch, all of which ended in violence (as did all my encounters with Sin).
I examined the body further but didn’t find anything, which strengthened my confidence in the escaped prisoner theory. His gun wasn’t exactly of a very good quality and I had enough shit in that wagon to drag around, so I just left it next to him.
We were far away enough from the main road that I doubted anyone would find him without looking for him, and anypony who would do that would either assume that his escape attempt failed or would be glad he was dead, so it was probably safe for me to leave him there.
I stood up straight and turned back to the direction I had come from.
‘The wasteland’s full of corpses, what’s one more?’
To both my surprise and delight, Camper’s Trading Post actually did double up as a rest stop, meaning that it had beds and food for sale... and a big guard dog.
I have no idea how I missed the large, black and brown Pitbull the first time, but apparently ‘Sadie’ was the one and only form of protection that this place had or needed.
Although you’d never guess that if you saw her interact with Caramel. I hear the two of them playing some kind of game of their own creation before I had even arrived back at Camper’s place.
The sight would bring a smile to the face of a pony who hadn’t just killed someone. Blue Lagoon, however, was gazing wistfully at the scene from the doorway with her lips curled into a warm smile.
“I suppose a dog makes for a pretty good distraction… perhaps you ought to join in.” I remarked after learning what was happening, then trotted past her into the building.
“Ah, the exterminator returns.” Mused the Griffon that was slumped over a mattress as I entered the sleeping area. I only huffed in response.
“That go alright for ya?” Asked Camper from a rather ragged looking armchair in one corner.
I nodded once and sat down on the bed opposite Cross Wings.
“Terrific, what do I owe you?”
“Didn’t I say I don’t want your money?”
“No, you said that you were gonna have to deal with them anyway, never said you wouldn’t accept payment, and I pay my debts. So, again, what do I owe you?”
I was about to continue my protest when a thought struck me.
“… Okay then, give me a bit of information.” He raised an eyebrow at this.
“What information?”
“Tell me the kind of traffic comes through here.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, mercenaries, travellers, merchants, that sort of thing.”
“Oh, right, well… in terms of mercenaries, most of what we get around here work for the Talons company. I’ve seen a few Steel Rangers come through, but they never buy anything. As for travellers and merchants, well, pretty much the same as what you lot are; just a few ponies with a wagon filled with stuff. Not much else to it, really.”
I frowned and drew out a cigarette.
“Well, what about the Band of Sin? Anything on them?” I pushed as I lit the paper stick. He snorted as if the name itself disgusted his.
“Those assholes? Nothing from them for the last six months. Used to occasionally hear some chatter about them being in the area, but I’ve always been closed whenever they’re around.” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
“How come they’ve never just broken the door down and taken whatever they wanted?”
A somewhat malicious grin appeared on his muzzle.
“Oh, they’ve tried.” I faltered slightly at this and stared him dead in the eye. There were a few seconds of nothing before the room filled with bemused laughter.
“You’ve held your own against Sin? Seriously? You and that dog?”
“Hey, I’m not so old that I can’t handle myself. And it’s not always just me and Sadie, my sons around most of the time and he can defiantly handle himself.”
“Oh yeah, where is Hatchet? He still kickin’?” Asked Cross Wings.
“Ah, he’s fine. He went down to Hollow Shades to visit his aunt and uncle. Should be back day after tomorrow.”
“You have a son?”
“What, you thought I ran this place by myself? He’s a strong lad with a good heart. About your age… I think. How old are you?”
“Twenty-three… roughly.” Cross Wings’ head jolted up.
“Wait, you’re twenty-three?” I nodded slowly, a bit confused. ‘Didn’t I already tell him that?’
“We met four years ago, so you were nineteen, right?”
“Probably closer to eighteen… but, like I said, roughly.”
“So you’re telling me that my drunken ass got saved by a kid barely old enough to grow his first chin beard?”
There was a moment of tense silence before Camper burst out laughing.
“O=okay,” He said, trying to compose himself “this story I gotta hear.” I glance over to the griffon, who huffed and looked away.
“You tell him.”
I shrugged “If you insist.” then turned back to an eagerly awaiting Camper.
“So, it happened in a bar in Friendship City – a bar neither of us are allowed back into anymore…”
About three and a half hours of stories, drinks and smoking later night had come and everyone in the building was fast asleep. Everyone except me, of course.
I was upright in bed using a weak illumination spell to read the fat book that was perched on my lap.
‘When performing a teleportation spell, it is advised to choose a location that the caster can actually see, so as to avoid accidentally teleporting in a place that is already occupied by an inanimate object, or worse, another pony. Failing that, the caster should know exactly what the area looks like and be able to visualize it in order to accurately pinpoint the location. It is also important to-’
My attention was captured by the sudden movement in the corner of my eye.
It was the dog, Sadie, who had been curled up on a large pillow next to Caramel’s bed. From the way her head jutted up and immediately pointed to the door I could guess that she had heard something.
“Something up, girl?” I whispered as I set down the book and crept out of bed. The dog was already to her feet and scraping at the front door by the time my hooves were all on the ground.
‘Something’s outside? Could be thieves going through the wagon, a couple of mole rats creeping around… or it could be Sin looking for whoever killed their friend.’
The rifle that had been on the floor by my bed instantly shot up to my side. I didn’t exactly want to have to shoot anypony here, as it would likely make Camper a target, but I would kill whoever was out there if I needed to.
I silently dashed to the nearest window and peaked out.
There were three ponies outside, two earth pony stallions and a unicorn mare (whose horn was glowing bright enough for me to be able to tell). All of them were armed with carbine rifles and wearing black spiky metal armour with red under clothes.
The thing about these guys that stood out the most were their helmets; they covered everything but the ears, had small red horns jutting out from the forehead and thin slits for eye holes that seemed to glow green.
One thing was clear, at least; they weren’t Sin, Steel Rangers, Enclave or anypony else that I knew hated me.
Sadie was now growling at the door, but not loud enough to wake the others. If I didn’t open it, she was gonna start barking, and everyone awake to greet these newcomers was not something that would end well.
“Calm down, girl. It’s all fine.” I whispered, placing a hoof on the back of her neck.
This seemed to relax her to where I felt like I could open the door without accidentally setting a rabid dog on these ponies.
“Go back to bed, shoo.” I hushed whilst ushering her away with a hoof.
I took a deep breath, opened the door and trotted out.
The night air was a gentle breeze and was just about cold enough against my uncovered body to send a shiver through my muscles as I approached the newcomers
They didn’t have any kind of dramatic reaction to my approach. They just slowly turned and faced me.
We stared each other down for a few seconds before the mare of the group spoke up.
“Are you Camper?” I had to stifle a groan. ‘Why would you print your name on a sign outside your house?’
“No, I’m just spending the night here. Who are you?”
“…”
“…”
“About a mile down the road leading east, there lies the dead body of a member of the Sloth Branch of the Band of Sin. He was killed less he six hours ago by a shot to the head. Might you know anything about this incident?”
I almost completely shut down right then and there. Somehow managing to contain my nerves, I gave a response that can only be described as gutsy.
“My Question first. Who are you?”
The mere seconds of silence were somehow more tantalizing than anything else. I couldn’t see any of their faces, so normally I would rely on what they said, the tone of their voice or even their slightest movement to be able to figure out how to play it.
Unfortunately, these ponies were not only dead still, but even more reclusive than me, which is way what came next was a surprise to me.
“We’re scouts of the Legion, sent to recover an escaped prisoner and prevent him from giving away any secrets he may have known, by any mean.”
I blinked twice. ‘The Legion? I’ve never heard of any group called the Legion.’
“His death was paramount to our mission. How it happened was not. Knowing exactly how he died isn’t vital, but it would be welcome information. Therefore, I’m only asking once and then leaving regardless of the answer.”
I continued staring but soften a little. This mare didn’t exactly strike me as good company, but she seemed to be telling the truth.
After a moment of nothing, I exhaled in defeat.
“Well, you’ve found the course of death. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.” I grumbled as I turned back the door.
I was about to open it when I was halted by another question in the mare’s sharp voice.
“What’s your name?”
I couldn’t tell them my real name. If it turns out that I did know this group and they did want me dead I probably wouldn’t ever leave Camper’s place. But even if I didn’t, it would be dangerous to even be associated with them (they seemed like the type to have more enemies than anything else).
“Smoke Shot.” It was a believable enough alias. It had worked before and they could clearly see my cutie mark, which involved both smoke and shooting, so it sort of fit.
“The Legion owes you a debt. Should you ever find yourself in our presence, you shall be met with further gratitude.”
With those final words, the sound of hoof steps began to lead my ears away into the distance.
I had to suppress the urge to swear as I re-enter the building.
‘This is gonna come back to bite me!’
“Ahh, fucking hell!” I grunted as I tossed the empty cigarette box to the side.
“Cross Wings, if we don’t get there in the next hour, I’m going smash something through one of these houses, and I don’t care what it is.” I heard a loud gulp to my left, followed by a nervous chuckle.
“Don’t worry. I know my way through these ruins, we’ll be home in less than twenty minutes.”
The ruins he was talking about was the hollow remains of what I assumed to have once been a large town that we had just entered (no idea what its name was).
This area was far more decapitated than the rest of it. The buildings were little more than stacks of bricks and the roads were so littered with rubble that they were barely distinct from any other part of the ground.
The rest of the place – which was actually kind of inhabitable – was completely walled off to keep out… well, everything.
I, myself, had been to the city many times over the years but had never stayed for more than a weeks or so at a time. Not that I wasn’t welcome to stay, I just didn’t like being stationary for too long (a habit I picked up from several bad childhood experiences).
I then realized that Cross Wings had referred to the city as ‘home’. Didn’t his family live in what was left of the Griffon homeland? And when Camper had asked how they were doing he had avoided answering and had looked to me when he had done it.
‘…oh, that son of a bitch.’
My jaw tightened, but I gave no other visible reaction as I tried to figure out exactly what to do about this.
If I pretended that he had fooled me, he would likely hold this over my head for a good few weeks, so my only real option was to let it slip that I knew at some point before he told me.
But when exactly did he intend to tell me? Did he intend to tell me at all? I had never met any of his family, so it wasn’t as if I’d recognize any of them. Then again, there weren’t many Griffons in Nova to begin with, so I might have been able to pick them out of a crowd.
Now that I thought about, Nova wasn’t exactly a very diverse city, and I had to assume that there was some prejudice for the higher-ups involved in that.
It had never really made any sense to me way some people exclude or dislike other people just because of their species. As far as I was concerned, we were all trapped in the same hell and all that mattered was how we get out of it, and it seemed like hating each other was what got us here in the first place.
Well, hatred may have played an essential role in the destruction of the old world, but it really boiled down to greed, a vice that continued to grip this land long after its death. It was really quite-
“Yo, Strike.”
My train of thought was derailed by a set of claws waving in from of my face.
“Huh?”
“We, err, we’re here.”
I finally regained my special awareness and noticed the ten-foot-high wall before us and the large sliding door with two guards stood either side dead ahead.
“Well, look who’s back. Nice time out there, Vanish?” Mused the earth pony guard on the left side of the door.
His gruff, deep voice blended rather well with the black security and helmet he wore and the shotgun at his side to make an intimidating raider repellent.
“Can it, Stone,” I grumbled as I magically reached into my left pocket and produced a small, quarter full sack, which I then tossed to his waiting hoof.
“Fifty caps, don’t tell the mayor I’m here.”
“You know she’s gonna find out on her own, right?” I had to stifle a smirk.
“Yeah, but by then, it wouldn’t matter.” He simply shrugged.
“Alright, mate. It’s your money.”
He turned and banged twice on the sheet of metal on wheels they called a door with the butt of his gun, then shouted for whoever was on the other side to open up.
Twenty seconds of loud, metallic sounds later, the door was fully open.
“Okay then,” Stone Head announced as he turned back to face us.
“Welcome to Nova City.”
Footnote: Level up
Perk added: Trigger-Happy - the first shot one a non-hostile or unaware enemy does double damage